


Nights Like These

by lotusroad (orphan_account)



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: F/F, Fluff, I'm not saying theyre gay but.......theyre gay, No Angst, nothing terrible this time just nice domestic mercenary girlfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lotusroad
Summary: Marisa couldn't recall ever truly feeling 'at home', but this place came close.





	

There is rarely time for comfort when one is a mercenary. Your life is spent in training, in danger. Your blade in flesh, and blood fresh on your hands. And later, it's past your hands, bound to your very soul and weaved into your past. Soon, you don't blink an eye at it. And it becomes instinct, no need for thought or question, just execution with an elaborate show of muscle memory. Then, there is the full transition into a cold, stoic killer for the gold. You can prevent it, but only for so long. And that is why Marisa valued what time she had when she could.

The building that held Gerik's Mercenaries was small. The first room, for business matters. The room beside it, Gerik's. And the one room floor above, hers. But not just hers, Tethys' as well. When she steps in, now shielded from the growing chilliness of a desert night, she steps straightly to the stairs, not minding if anyone were to mutter a greeting toward her being. Her hand runs along walls of sun-baked mud brick, and the wood stairs creak underneath her. Simple, but familiar. And her fingers know every bump and crease of it.

There's no door, the stairs opening to the room itself. Though it seems since she'd last been there, Tethys had raised some curtains for a slight sense of privacy. Not that it really mattered, they were there so little. It was otherwise untouched, the bland walls decorated with tapestry. A near barren, disorganized bed is stuffed into the corner, the only two windows to the Jehanna streets right beside it. A chair discarded beside it, with unkempt clothes draped over it. And a table akin to a vanity, covered in the various solutions and paints Tethys kept to keep herself looking like she does. Jewelry is scattered on its surface here and there, and her rarer, more fancier outfits hung on hooks beside it. Marisa wonders for a moment how it stays so messy, given the room was often so absent of them.

But really, she wouldn't have it any other way. It's not a hindrance, and it feels homely, full of life. It was proof there was people to live in it. Every little bit of it had Tethys mixed into it, she noticed. In fact, she was certain the only things that were hers were other clothes stacked and a sleeping gown on that chair; or the spare, sharpened blade she kept under their bedding in case a thief finds their way to their unguarded windows. Marisa couldn't recall ever truly feeling 'at home', but this place came close. And when she falls rather ungracefully into the soft sheets, she takes in the scent of sandalwood and flowers, the dancer's perfume.

She lay there, taking deep breathes. In. Out. In. Out. It's easy to stop breathing when you fight, slowly suffocating oneself without realizing it. And she was fighting so fast, so naturally she almost forgot she had a body, that she wasn't just pure action or a spirit unbound from flesh. It makes her flex every muscle in every limb, reminding herself she is there, and that she can feel. That she is alive. All isn't lost just yet. And she stares to the ceilings, counting every mark and scrape so she's certain her brain still has a will. And when she is secure, alive again, she flips over onto her side, peering out the small window beside her pillow.

Orange and purple is setting above the white dunes, though those start to darken as well. And night is when the desert, their little town truly comes alive. She closes her eyes and lets herself sense the smell of food stands and spices, the mildly distanced music of street performers, and the dim glow of stringed lanterns. This is normal Jehannan life, and she almost longs for the simplicity of it. It was never a lifestyle she fit into, but she came close to feeling it in moments like now. Discarding her bloodied uniform, caring not for decency as she supposes she'll be alone, she delves deeper into the cloth and tries to will herself to sleep.

Marisa isn't sure if it's hours or minutes when the curtains rustle, and another presence is clearly within the room. But from the faint bells, the jingle of gold, and subtle scent of sandalwood, Marisa finds no need to be alert. She stays perfectly still, eyes still closed and it allows her to pick up on the low humming as her roommate goes through the lengthy process of fully removing all her accents. The metal hits the table, fabrics drop to the floor, and she thinks she hears the nightgown being taken from it's spot. That's _mine_ , she thinks, but remembers she hadn't bothered to use it. She'll let it slide for now. And she doesn't think it out of possessiveness, rather something akin to sheepishness. Was that on purpose?

Not long after, the other plops down beside her. And Marisa doesn't react as she normally would to the arms falling around her. Instead, she does what she'd never do in a normal sleep and turns onto her side, typically utterly still and ready to awake at the drop of a pin. To be fair, she wasn't asleep so much as wavering on the border of wakefulness and unconsciousness. Only here could she do this. She keeps her eyes closed, she doesn't need to look to know Tethys is smiling at her, half lidded eyes still showing remains of her makeup. She's already etched every curve and edge of the woman's features into her memory.

"I knew you weren't asleep."

It's not like she was pretending. Marisa nods drowsily, though Tethys' arms on her bare skin is riveting in a way that makes the myrmidon feel both pleasant and uncomfortable all at once. It's a welcome change to the numbness she'd felt earlier. She draws nearer, and can tell from the linen material that it is indeed her gown covering Tethys' curves, and it briefly sends heat to her cheeks. She finds being touched odd and strange, alien to any past experiences, but will allow it only to this woman. While the festivities of the townsfolk can still barely be heard, and a chill from the approaching night hits the room, Tethys only giggles and pulls the covers higher up on them, her now loose curls spread about their pillows and surrounds them both. Here, with Tethys around her, and the hints of life and hope and happiness just outside their windows, Marisa for once feels like she is truly home.


End file.
